


Torn purple photographs

by Inky_Scribbles



Series: Asexual Dick Stories [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Friendship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this instead of studying for exams which start this week yeet, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Talking, did i edit this time?, i guess anyway - Freeform, pass, uhhhhh, whats in a timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Scribbles/pseuds/Inky_Scribbles
Summary: “And it’s a little different when you’re ace. Most the time, people don’t even know what that is. And some people like to think that because of that, asexuals don’t suffer. They say that we don’t really suffer as much as the others, but invisibility is just as much oppression as anything else."//Dick and Tim have a heart-to-heart late at night.





	Torn purple photographs

**Author's Note:**

> im bacc
> 
> timeline? dont know the meaning of the word.
> 
> Also, just so everyone knows, despite this being a part of a series, you don't need to read anything else to understand this. There are references, but I don't think you'll actually lose anything from the experience, so. Yeah.

“I wish there were more clouds,” Tim finds himself muttering one night, staring up at the sky. This far from Gotham, the stars were visible, but he’s already seen each one before. He even knows what they’re called, and what constellations they make up. His astrology phase had been… long. “You can make up all sorts of things about clouds. Like names.”

“I suppose,” Dick agrees from the open windowsill. His voice carries only a little, but not because he’s whispering. Tim wonders if this is his normal voice, away from the facades he prefers. He wonders if Dick is a quiet person, in reality. He wonders if anyone knows about that. “What would you call that one?” He points to a wispy little thing in the distance.

“Carl.” It’s weird to not think about his answers before he says them. He wonders if this is what it’s like to be Jason, or Damian. Or maybe they really do think about their answers, and he just can’t tell.

“Why Carl?”

“I don’t know.” he takes a breath and smooths down wrinkles in his shirt that aren’t really there. “He just seems like a Carl type of cloud.”

Carl drifts past one of the taller trees of Wayne Manor’s backyard, shifting until he looks a bit like a rabbit with a fish tail, only just visible from the silvery reflections of moonlight. “Yeah.”

Tim shivers, and remembers idly that winter closing in, and with the window open, the whole room feels a little chilly. Dick doesn’t seem to mind, even though he’s fully out in the cold, and not leaning up against a radiator next to the sill. Tim wonders if Dick actually does mind or not. It’s hard to tell, sometimes. Maybe even all of the time, but no one notices.

That feels like a little bit of a failure on his part.

He wonders how Dick felt, that time in Autumn a while back. He wonders if he still thinks about that day, what things could have been different. He wonders if he regrets that he and Damian found out. Does Jason know? It would be weird if he didn’t, Tim can’t help but think, and feels just a smattering of bitterness.

“What’s wrong?” there’s a frown on Dick’s face, and he must have noticed something. Probably what direction his thoughts were going, or something. He wonders if the frown is an actual reflection of his feelings, or something he’s put on to make his ideas clear, the way Tim knows he does, too, sometimes. Is there even a difference?

“It’s just…” Is he really going to say this? “D’you… regret that we know? Sometimes.” _Was it an intrusion? Would you have preferred another way?_

Dick doesn’t look at him, but then again, he hasn’t been this entire conversation. For some reason, it still feels significant. “Oh,” is all he says. “You mean about the whole… Asexual thing.”

Not a question. “Yes,”

Dick leans back against the edge of the windowsill, feet propped in an almost bird-like manner beneath him. He takes a breath, and then another, and for a few moments Tim wonders if he even asked a question at all, or if he’s just made this conversation up in his mind. It’s quiet.

The moon glints dimly on the glass of the window. Carl floats out of view.

Then, Dick sighs. “I suppose not. You’d have found out either way.”

“But… But you’d rather have more control over it.”

“Yes.” he says shortly, then sighs, shoulders dropping. His head tips until the outline of his jaw catches the light. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

Abashed, “Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear that, it’s just… I mean, I know you wouldn’t mind. Neither of you would, at least, by the end of it. What is there to mind? I’m not… I’m not doing anything. Well– Well, it’s a little complicated, it depends, but I’m not…” he cuts himself off, sighs.

His eyes trail around to look back at Tim, even as his head doesn’t move. Dick has always been darker than the rest of them, even after spending months in the cave or only going out at night, but his eyes never really followed that pattern. Normally, they’re a summer sky-coloured kind of blue, but in the moonlight they’ve got a silvery sheen, like pools of quicksilver.

Dick’s voice is quiet. Tim doesn’t mind listening. “It’s just… For any other secret, people sort of… Just respect it, y’know? It’s a secret. But suddenly, when it’s about who you like or who you don’t like, that’s something that everyone’s got to know. It’s life-changing. People look at you differently, like you’re suddenly different just because you didn’t live up to their expectations.”

“And it’s a little different when you’re ace. Most the time, people don’t even know what that is. And some people like to think that because of that, asexuals don’t suffer. Everyone likes to say that we don’t really suffer as much as the others, but invisibility is just as much oppression as anything else. They’re lucky, if they’ve forgotten that.”

He looks sombre for a moment, then turns sheepish and shoots Tim a smile. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to off on one. I’m just a little frustrated, I guess.”

It’s a little weird to be Dick’s rock. He wonders if this is what it’s like for Jason or Bruce. To have Dick just come right out and say how he feels. Dick loves Tim, he knows that, but Tim has always been the little brother, not just “brother”, like Jason. And certainly not mentor, or father, or partner, or whatever he and Bruce had been while they were still arguing.

Tim touches Dick’s arm, just a slight brush, and then a firm hold. He wants to be Dick’s rock, as much as Dick is his. “It’s okay,” he mutters, not wanting to break the quiet but not wanting to go unheard, either. “I don’t mind. You can trust us, you know. We’re…” he hesitates on the word “brothers”. _Friends? Partners?_ “Teammates.”

Dick grins. It’s not the first time he’s been given a grin like that, but it is the first time he’s seen it for what it is. “Brothers,” Dick corrects, letting his own hand settle over Tim’s on his arm.

It’s happy.


End file.
